Depths of the Shallow Sea
by The Ember Woods
Summary: Some fairy tales have inklings of truth in them. For Nymiane Zaffre, the last Mer-Faunus of the Shallow Sea, this couldn't be truer. Remnant is entering a new age. So far, the future looks Grimm. (SunxOC)


Depths of the Shallow Sea

Chapter 1: Rising Tides

A shiver ran through me, shaking me into the cool walls of the cave. My hands felt the ground, soon colliding with metal. My fingers frantically searched the metal object, looking for the ignition key that would brighten the dark cave and cast my shadow on the walls. With a click, light emanated from the dust-powered lantern, the wet ground that marked my path from the watery depths of the opening of the hidden cave was dotted with crimson now visible to my eyes. Taking slow, deep breaths I removed my dark stained shirt, hissing quietly as I pulled it over my freshly injured shoulder. With a shaky breath, I pulled my aching body back to the water's edge, seeing my reflection staring back at me as I peered into it.

Blue hair and silver eyes looked back up at me, intently searching every inch of skin as I continued my inspection. Two coral coloured markings ran down my cheeks, angled downwards slightly before rising and then curving down, ending about an inch from my mouth. What drew the most attention, however, were the pointed ears that protruded from the sides of my head. Minutes were spent carefully untangling the hair that had twisted around one ear, tucking the unruly strands behind it to get a clearer view of the protruding ear. From the reflection, I could see the coral-coloured fins that splayed across the bottom portion of the pointed muscle. The appendage twitched, then came to life as it made tiny movements forwards and backwards. Only the top portion of the ear, which I liked to call the 'backbone' was movable. The rest of the structure simply followed along as a flag would follow its pole.

It was a good thing. To have control over them, I mean. It was what Guriin had repeated to me consistently over the years, _"_ _Control is key, Nymiane, when in hiding. Rather, it is with control that you can hide. Those that cannot control their actions are more likely to get caught."_ , but what kind of control should I have over things that I did not decide? I did not decide to be born a Faunus. A strange one at that, too. Guriin had said once that my kind was almost a different race when compared to the Faunus, who were different from Humans in the same way. The Mer-Faunus in the City of the Sea, isolated off the coast of Menagerie by their own doing. What was it that Guriin said?

 _"_ _The Mer-Faunus are a people of the Shallow Seas, where no boat dares to tread water for fear of breaching the hull with the hundreds of stone spears lurking underwater. The City of the Sea is home only to those that could swim like no other. Both human and Faunus alike. They were warriors of the sea, and fought the Sea-Grimm that plagued Remnant with ease. They had great power, Nymiane, just as you do. Not many can make such a grand claim as they: to fight equally with Faunus on land, and to fight even fiercer in water."_

Unfortunately, the greater you are, the harder you fall.

The stinging of my shoulder brought me out of my memories, and I was faced with reality once more. With my shirt drying slowly on the cold floor of the sea cave, I turned my body so that I could see my left shoulder in the reflection of the water. Flicking the long strands of soaking blue hair over my right shoulder, I could see a deep cut in the skin, marring the smoothness with an angry and bleeding red line. The line crossed some of the blue markings that started at the base of my neck and travelled down my left arm, coming to a stop at my elbow. Something my heritage had passed on as well, marking me as a Faunus of the Sea. At least they looked like some sort of warrior tribe markings, which was admittedly pretty cool and thankfully easier to hide than my ears. With strained effort, I slowly pulled myself to my feet and walked to one of the many hiding places in the medium sized cavern, pulling out some cotton patches to stop the bleeding.

After the cotton rested uncomfortably on my skin, I pulled my soaking shirt back on, straightening it until it rested comfortably on my smooth skin. While the action made me shiver, the cold floor not making the article any warmer, I could feel my body slowly absorbing the moister still held in the fabric. Which is one of Guriin's inventions to keep a Mer-Faunus alive in a desert like Vacuo. After all, who would look for a fish on desert sands?

Patting down my ripped pants, which were noticeably drier than my shirt, I finally took a deep breath and sat down, placing my legs in the water as I stared unseeingly into the water. The sound of the sea water lapping up against the cavern's opening lulled me into an uneasy peace, my back lowering slowly onto the ground. It had started as a normal day, which is how most unusual days start, I guess. Guriin was making his weekly trip to the small port town of Westray, only about an hour walk from where we stayed, and he offered me the rare opportunity to join him. It was an offer only extended to keep an eye on me, as he had probably realized that I had been sneaking away to hunt the occasional Sea-Grimm that bothered the boats that passed by. For a blind guy, his eyes tend to see quite a bit.

But, I never was one to turn down an invitation to travel to Westray. Disguising myself for such purposes had gotten easier in the years with Guriin, and it had become rather simple: hide my ears in my hair, and wear a cloak that was long enough to hide my tail. People didn't ask too many questions in Vacuo, it seems. It was a harsh enough place to survive in, nobody needed enemies. However, my enemies found us easily enough.

Guriin liked to be prepared, but I don't think he ever saw this coming. We were being followed, and soon enough, they confronted us on one of the side streets that Guriin had led us into. Their faces were obscured by the same masks Guriin once told me about: ones that resembled the bone like structure of the Grimm. He never expected the White Fang to look for us, if the disappointed furrow of his brow told me anything.

 _"_ _Has the White Fang resorted to working with humans now? Even if you have turned to violent measures to forward your message along, surely the short-sighted humans could not have been enough to attack your own."_

They didn't respond, and Guriin said nothing more to the masked Faunus. With only a slight nod of his head, I quickly ran from the alleyway, weaving my way through the bodies of the people that milled around the market district of Westray. I never looked back. Never doubted for a second that Guriin would let my pursuers reach me. Perhaps if I had looked back, I would've noticed the little brown and pink eyed girl who followed me all the way to the docks. Where she slashed my shoulder with the blade concealed in her lace umbrella the moment I paused at the end of the dock, staring into the water's edge. She grinned, looking pleased with her work, but it quickly faded when I took that time to push myself into the water.

…

Hours trickled by as I dwelled in the cavern, pacing in circles as I waited to hear the ring of the bell that Guriin had placed above the ground. The cavern had no above ground entrance, but was close enough for the muted sound to reach my Faunus ears. With the absence of the faint ringing sound, my concern for Guriin grew. He had always said that in the case where we were separated, he would come to ring the bell in one hour. By now, it had been several. He had also said that if the bell didn't ring I should stay put. But I was never one for following all his rules.

Breaking my rhythmic pacing, I rushed towards one of the wooden chests in the cavern. The cavern had become a second home to me after I started killing the Grimm that inhabited the waters just as my ancestors had done. Supposedly. Rustling through the fabrics that kept my weapon hidden from view I soon felt the hard metal of the staff and pulled it from the chest.

Dianthus is a weapon that survived the fall of Venilia, the city of the Shallow Sea. Guriin said that it was given to him for safekeeping when I was taken to him, and he gave it to me when I was old enough to learn how to defend myself. It was a war fan mounted on a staff, with a sphere on the bottom that could open to reveal a handle attached to a chain that was hidden inside the staff. Currently, the fan was closed, creating a bladed edge that worked as a spear tip, and the staff of Dianthus was retracted for easier storage.

Strapping Dianthus onto my back, I closed the chest and dove into the water. The salt water was warm, and unhindered by its flow I swam to shore quickly. Light filtered through the water, and as I surfaced the blinding sun greeted me with its heat. Swaying in the waves as I moved towards shore, the heat was bearable, mostly because I was still mostly submersed in water. With this in mind, I made sure to soak my hair in the water once more and placing it into a messy bun before stepping onto the sandy shore. It would be enough moisture to keep me hydrated for the twenty minute trek to the house, at least.

With a sigh, the path I had taken several times was walked once more and the house came into view.

Cautiously, I crouched down behind a rock formation within eyesight of the old wooden building. Peering around the rough boulders, there was nothing I could see that was amiss at first glance. The two-story building still stood there, the wind chimes that hung in the porch chimed with the slight gusts of winds that swept over the land. Sweat dripped from my forehead, blurring my vision as I futilely wiped my brow. While the afternoon sun had slowly begun its journey to the west, the heat that permeated the ground had not yet cooled.

It had not been our house for very long, and it looked as if it had been abandoned long before we stumbled across it. Sand sometimes blew through the long cracks in the wood, and its howling had woken me more times than not in the night… But, it was better than most abandoned houses we had found. Guriin liked to stay on the move, so we never really settled in one place for too long. We had travelled most of what the people call the Basilisk Path: A path that cut through the desert that ran from the village of Virago, on the western end of the desert, to the eastern port town of Westray. The trail was long and perilous. Only those who wanted to remain unseen took the Grimm-infested route.

The path was littered with long abandoned towns that sizzled in the heat of the desert, most of them we stayed in as we made our journey to the eastern side of the Kingdom of Vacuo. We didn't come across a lot of people, most would head from Virago directly to the capital, as that road was somewhat protected from Grimm.

More sweat accumulated on my skin, and it was futile to prevent the warm moisture from running down my body. With one last sweeping look of my barren surroundings (apart from the occasional rock formation that jutted out of the coarse golden sea) I cautiously approached the familiar wooden porch. Soon enough, my feet quietly pressed down on the wooden planks. My senses were focused on acquiring any sort of sign that the house had been compromised, while my mind tried desperately to remember which boards croaked under my weight, and which didn't. It proved to be a rather difficult thing to do, since it seemed that ALL of the boards were feeling a little creak-y at the moment. Luckily, my senses chose not to let me down.

Picking up a quiet groan from inside the house, my ears perked and my body tensed. Turning my silver eyes out over the sands, the high ground the abode was relocated to offered no sight of pursuers. Satisfied, my attention turned back to the inside of the house. Sidling over to the closest window, silently thanking Oum that it turned out to be the one that had lodged itself firmly into the window frame when it was almost completely open. Well, that and the fact that Guriin had not bothered to fix it, as it further emphasized the building's abandonment.

I could smell the blood even before my feet had touched the ground.

My eyes quickly found the form of a body lying on the ground within eyesight from the front door. Without hesitating my body moved on its own accord, all thought of caution was thrown away as I neared the injured figure of the man I spent most of my life with.

"Guriin!"

My hands turned him over, his body limply falling onto his back. My hands felt wet, sticky. Stained with red just as his chest was. From what I could see from his torn clothing, a horizontal cut had been made from one shoulder to the other. It didn't look too deep, but blood still oozed from the wound. As my legs pushed me to stand and search for something to stop the bleeding, my arm pulled me back down. A hand clung onto the limb, the grip tight enough to limit the movement of my hand even through the metal bracer I wore. My eyes searched his face, his sightless eyes gazing into me. He looked older, somehow. As if the lines on his face had deepened since the last time I saw him.

"Nymiane, you must go." His voice was gravel, the soft rumble drawing me closer to him as he spoke, "It is a trap… They will return soon and catch you if you do not leave now."

His body moved slowly as he pointed in the direction of the sea, which was to the left of the front of the shack. Shaking my head, I pushed his arm down, laying it across his body as I moved around to his head. My hands found their way under his arms and lifted, slowly dragging his body across the floor in the direction he pointed to. Unwilling to stop, tables, chairs, and other unimportant objects in my path crashed to the floor as my body shoved them aside.

Of course, Guriin never liked it when I ignored him. Intense heat scorched the bare skin of my palms as the old man activated his aura. The temperature of his body rose drastically and soon enough I could feel my skin dry out in its presence.

Before long, instincts caused my hands to let go. He dropped to the floor unceremoniously as my flaking hands ran through my hair, the moisture still contained in the strands by my aura replenished that which was lost in Guriin's stunt.

"Guriin, what are you doing?! This would go a lot faster if you weren't trying to-"

"Zaffre!"

My entire being tensed at the use of my last name, and I could feel my ears droop guiltily as his voice held the same tone he had used to scold me as a child.

"Do **_not_** take that tone with me, young lady. This is a matter in which I **_will not_** tolerate your willful disregard for my rules." My tail swished from side to side as I refused to meet his eyes as he scolded me further, "You **_will_** leave this place at once and find your way to Vale. Go to Beacon Academy, the one that trains Hunters and Huntresses. The headmaster, Ozpin. While I do not know him personally, he is the one who sent you to me… He'll find you a-"

His instructions were cut short by a coughing fit. His breaths came in short gasps, and as a result, his sentences were fragmented and shorter than his usual long-winded commands. Truly, he would've done well for himself if he had been gifted with an obedient charge. Unfortunately, I frequently found his commands somewhat lacking and… 'Modified' them until all parties could find them satisfactory. Well, some were more satisfied than others.

Lifting his body once more, this time attempting to pull him upright, I continued my path towards the side door which would grant us a straight line towards the shore. Unfortunately, the unsteady limp of a pace we could create with Guriin leaning heavily on my smaller frame would slow us down quite a bit…

But that was an issue that didn't concern me at the moment.

"There's no way I'm going to let you leave me, Guriin. So stop being such an old fool and try to not die on me."

While I wasn't entirely sure what to make of the emotional crack in my voice halfway through my own lecture (which thankfully was much shorter than his own), it seems he got the idea and fell silent as he hobbled as fast as he could. It wasn't until we reached the door that he spoke up again.

"Heh… You've been a thorn in my side since the day we met, little Nym…" He spoke as if a laugh was caught in his throat, his stern act dropping completely as he realized it would do him no good, "If only-"

His voice dropped off, and the way his body tensed made my ears perk up, attempting to hear what had disturbed the man.

I didn't hear anything until a powerful shove from Guriin flung me into the old wood. After the wood had imprinted itself into my skin as angry red scratches, I couldn't **_stop_** hearing the sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone. It echoed in my mind until I turned back to stare at the image that would forever haunt me in my nightmares.

The sun was shining, and the light that entered into the windows of the ancient structure captured the moment like none other. A black bladed sword wielded by a short-haired woman had pierced the chest of Guriin. The tip of the blade had gone through him, with blood soon starting to drip from the metal onto the wooden floor in a fast rhythm. My clenching heart soon blocked out that sound by thudding loudly in my head, staring with wide eyes as his hands jerked towards the blade that now ran through his being.

His hands never managed to make it to the blade.

The black haired woman withdrew the blade slowly, a sickening squelching noise accompanying it as her foot rested on Guriin's chest and pushed his body away. His body fell limply to the ground, as a puppet would when all of the strings keeping it upright were cut, but not before she leaned in and whispered something into his ear.

Her words were lost to me, though, as my heart thudded faster and faster. Soon I could feel the blood in my veins pulsating throughout my body as she wiped Guriin's blood from her blade as if it was disgusted by the fact it had stained her weapon for even a second. There was a pressure building behind my eyes, and before I could comprehend what was happening my body lurched forward in a rage and my fist clenched around Dianthus tightly as I swung the weapon Guriin had given me in a wide arc. Had I been in the right mind, I would've known that the move had left me far too exposed.

But the power that flooded my system overruled that logic as everything went white.

I could feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness.

My eyes remained tightly shut, as if an unexpected light had blinded them and the world was now too bright to look at behind the closed lids. I felt pain. My heart ached, but I couldn't remember why. My skin felt raw, my stomach felt as if it had collided with a brick wall, and my mouth was drier than I could ever remember it being. There was sand. Dragging along my body and seeping into every crevice as I lay on some sort of uncomfortable material that dug into my body. Attempts to move my arms and legs were only met with confusion, as they seemed to be tied together.

The world floated in and out of focus. I could hear a voice. At first far away, but then it came closer. Focusing on it, I could make out some words, but after a while it almost felt like I was deciphering an entirely different language.

"Brother… … … taking **** ** _it_** to… …. … Circus Freak and Ring Leader are… … … … train… … Glenn… …"

I stopped listening. Everything was sore, and I was tired. Before I succumbed to the sleep that threatened to enrapture me forever, my body managed to force my eyes open. Blinded at first, but after several long blinks later I could make out the net that I found myself in. After a few more, I could see that it had turned into night.

A few more, and I could see a raging fire in the distance.

I tried to see more, but my blinks had turned into immeasurable lapses of time. The sand had turned to metal, and glowing red eyes found mine and the lips they belonged to sounded some more words before I passed out.

"Yes, I think we can leave it to them."


End file.
